


First Date

by shir_oh_no



Series: Shance Art AU [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Art Mentions, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, a lot of art mentions, bc i am weak, but with links, lance in thigh highs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shir_oh_no/pseuds/shir_oh_no
Summary: Shiro and Lance's first date





	First Date

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man. So much art. This is so self-indulgent.

Shiro took a deep breath and knocked on Lance’s door. It was ten in the morning on a Saturday, and he was _finally_ taking Lance out on their first official date. It was exciting. It was terrifying. Shiro really hoped he and Lance would have a good time.

After Shiro had painted Lance for his final project, he had taken him out to a greasy diner, where the two had talked about their lives and made small talk. Shiro had ended the night by walking Lance back home, then asking him out on a date the next weekend. To an art museum, because he was a cliché art student like that. Lance had seemed over-the-moon about the date though, and had enthusiastically agreed to the date. That Tuesday after class, Lance had told him to pick him up at ten and to be prepared to stay at the museum all day.

So here Shiro was, at ten in the morning, waiting for Lance to open up the door so they could leave. Shiro dressed for comfort, while still trying to look good, in a pair of soft dark wash jeans (mostly paint free, except for a splotch by the button) and a t-shirt printed with van Gogh’s starry night, a gift for his last birthday from Matt.

Finally, Lance opened the door, and Shiro’s jaw dropped.

If Shiro hadn’t thought Lance could be any hotter than when he was naked, he was _wrong_. Lance was wearing a black t-shirt, an image of da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man plastered on the front. The shirt was tucked into black shorts, making his legs look miles long, and his legs, _god, his legs_ , were covered in sheer black _stockings_ that stopped mid-thigh, leaving an enticing two inches of bare leg open for Shiro’s gaze.

“Uh,” Shiro said, so eloquently, looking up and down Lance’s body, his eyes lingering on the sliver of tan skin.

“Yo, eyes up here buddy,” Lance laughed, putting his hand in the way of Shiro’s gaze and waving up.

Shiro jerked his head up, blushing at having been called out, but Lance was smiling gently at Shiro.

“You, um, look really great,” Shiro sputtered out.

Lance’s smile grew and he struck a pose, flinging both arms up and cocking his hip out. “You really think so?

Shiro nodded frantically, “ _God_ , yes.” Shiro wanted to put his mouth on that sliver of exposed thigh. Immediately.

Lance smirked and turned around, shutting the door to his apartment behind him and locking it. Shiro took the opportunity to appreciate how good Lance looked from behind, from the soft skin exposed on the back of his neck, to the way the shorts hugged his ass just right.

Lance turned back around and Shiro snapped his head up, refusing to be got staring again, but based off of the smirk Lance gave him, he hadn’t succeeded.

“So,” Lance raised his eyebrow, “ready to go?”

Shiro nervously ran his right arm though his hair, tugging on the white locks in an attempt to focus on something other than Lance. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready. The museum opens at ten-thirty and I already bought the tickets online so we’re good to go if you’re ready?”

Lance shook his head, grinning wide. Without responding, he grabbed Shiro’s hand and pulled him down the hall and to the stairs. Lance lived on the third floor, so there was no sense in waiting for the elevator.

“My phone is all charged and I have a portable battery with me and I am so _pumped_ to be going to look at art,” Lance babbled as they walked down the stairs. “I hope you don’t mind me taking a lot of pictures. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to take some with you in them?” His tone curved up into a question at the end.

Shiro shook his head, “No, not at all, as long as you give me a head’s up first.”

Lance smiled, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth. “What do you think I’m doing now?”

Shiro laughed, taking the lead of their walk, directing Lance to his car at the far end of the parking lot. He held the door open for Lance and took a minute to calm himself when he shut the door. How did he get so lucky that this _gorgeous_ man agreed to go on a date with him?

When Shiro got in the driver’s side, he was met with Lance already having hooked up his phone to the auxiliary cord, and was scrolling through his songs.

“Hope you don’t mind my picking the music,” Lance looked up from his phone.

“No, not at all,” Shiro replied as he started the car.

_Oh man_ , Shiro really needed to learn how to turn Lance down. If that smirk was anything to go by, Shiro was going to regret his words in 3, 2…

“So, tell me what you want, what you really really want!” Lance sang along as the Spice Girls filled the air of Shiro’s car. Oh well, at least no minute spent in Lance’s company was boring. Shiro was singing along by the time he pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

The ride to the museum was nice. Lance spent the whole ride playing ridiculous songs, so there was no time left for awkward silences, but Shiro was seriously worried about his taste in men if he was into a guy who listened to Space Jam for fun. Lance sure was lucky he was cute.

As they walked through the entrance of the museum, Lance bumped his hand against Shiro’s. Taking the hint, Shiro shyly entwined his fingers with Lance’s, and squeezed the other man’s hand gently. They scanned their tickets to get into the museum, and they were set for the day.

“So where to first?” Shiro asked, grabbing a complimentary map and opening it.

“I was thinking maybe start with the main building and look at the art from other countries first, then move to the second floor and look at the European stuff, then grab lunch, then go to this building here and look at some sculpture and modern art, and then go anywhere else that looks cool,” Lance listed, pointing to different parts of the map. He pulled his hand back and blushed, “I may have looked up the map at home. And made a plan. Maybe.”

Shiro couldn’t hold back his smile, pleased to know the other man had been as excited about their date as he had been. “That sounds perfect.”

Lance wrapped his hands around Shiro’s right bicep, his fingers curling over the muscle and led the way to the first exhibit: Chinese, Japanese, and Korean art.

They browsed the Asian art, quietly commenting on the skill shown on the pieces. Lance flitted around, taking pictures of everything that caught his eye, and Shiro smiled when the man turned the camera his direction a few times. The pattern continued through the art of the Americas room, and then through the African art exhibit.

“Shiro, look at this cool ass headpiece,” Lance whispered, snapping a photo of two headdresses depicting antelope. Shiro read the info plaque by the wooden works, noting that they were called [Chi wara](http://www.artic.edu/aic/collections/artwork/189595?search_no=1&index=22/) headdresses. _Cool._

Shiro allowed Lance to drag him back through the America art, but paused by a few pieces to examine the detail in the stone stele. They perused through the Southeast Asia exhibit, then made their way upstairs, Lance nearly buzzing with excitement.

Halfway up the stairs, Shiro sighed, “I guess we should stop holding hands.”

“What? Why?” Lance looked upset at the suggestion.

“It’s against the rules,” Shiro said sadly.

“Which rules?”

“The signs everywhere are saying that I’m not allowed to touch the art.”

Lance paused for a second, Shiro’s words sinking in. Lance bumped his shoulder against Shiro’s squeezing the other man’s hand tighter. “You _cheeseball_ ,” he huffed, “I thought you were being _serious_.”

“I am,” Shiro replied, “Have you seen what your legs look like in those thigh highs? True art right there.”

Lance flushed, “Come on, the next exhibit is Impressionism.”

Shiro smiled to himself, pleased he could make the other man blush. All day Lance had been teasing him with those _damned thigh highs_ , and it felt good to be the one in control for once.

They wandered through the rooms, Lance occasionally pointing out an artist he recognized. Shiro hummed when appropriate, and enjoyed the way the impressionistic paintings felt, all loose brushstrokes and soft colors.

One of the rooms held a [self-portrait](http://www.artic.edu/aic/collections/artwork/80607?search_no=1&index=61/) of Vincent van Gogh, and Shiro could see Lance was practically bursting with something to say. They approached the painting to hear a teenage girl murmur to her friend.

“Didn’t he, like, cut off his ear because he was in love with a woman?”

“No,” Lance blurted, “it was because he was clinically depressed.” The girl and her friend turned around to glare at Lance, but he continued. “And for the record, that’s also why he ate yellow paint chips. It wasn’t so his insides could be happy or whatever bullshit you read on the internet, it was because he wanted to die and the paint contained lead.”

Shiro covered his mouth with his free hand, trying not to laugh at the offended looks on the two girls’ faces. Shiro was enamored. Lance was so hot when he was talking about art. He had a fiery passion in his eyes that Shiro felt lucky he got to see.”

“Shit, shit, shit, Shiro,” Lance interrupted Shiro’s thoughts, “Shiro, that’s [_A Sunday on La Grande Jatte_](http://www.artic.edu/aic/collections/artwork/27992?search_no=89&index=2/).”

Shiro looked where Lance was staring, and _wow_ that was a massive painting. Practically covering an entire wall, the painting dwarfed the people viewing it. Shiro stepped closer, noting how the details got fuzzier with each forward step.

“I knew it was a large painting, but I never imagined it would be _this_ large,” Lance murmured behind him. “Did you know it took Seurat two years to paint it? I’m surprised it didn’t take longer.”

Shiro moved back, watching the painting get clearer the further he went. Soon he was next to Lance once again, halfway across the room. “It’s incredible,” Shiro whispered.

“Yeah,” Lance agreed.

They stood there another minute or two, before moving onto the next room. They strolled through early European art, making their way past objects and poking into the armor room long enough for Lance to take a selfie with a suit of armor.

They doubled back and looked at the American Folk Art exhibit, Shiro recognizing one of the painting almost instantly. Lance was ready to ditch the room all together, but Shiro looked at the plaque next to the work he knew.

“[ _American Gothic_](http://www.artic.edu/aic/collections/artwork/6565?search_no=109&index=4/). I’m positive I’ve seen this before. Hey, Lance? Want to take a selfie with me?”

Lance brightened, pulling out his phone and flipping the camera on and around, “Yes, but make a serious face. Like them.” Shiro composed his smile and pretended to be as serious as the man holding the pitchfork in the painting.

Lance showed him the picture. Four serious faces looked back at him, and Shiro couldn’t help but laugh loudly, in the middle of an art museum. People all over the room whipped their heads around to stare at the large man with a robot arm and the lanky boy wearing thigh highs laughing. Shiro laughed even harder at the picture he was sure they made.

Shiro smiled at Lance and watched the other man bring his phone up to snap a picture of his grin.

“Shiro?” Lance asked.

“Yeah?”

“Remember how you said we weren’t allowed to touch the art?”

Shiro hummed in response, waiting for Lance to continue.

“Well how else am I going to pin you to the wall?”

Shiro’s mouth dropped open and he wracked his brain for a response, but all he could think about was Lance pressing him up against the wall. Shiro liked that idea very much. Shiro walked to stand in front of Lance and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You could give me a pair of handcuffs and ask nicely.” Lance gulped in response.

Shiro smirked and once again grabbed Lance’s hand, pulling him out of American Folk and into early European art. Lance quickly regained his composure, now in a room he knew all about. He pointed out pieces and shared little facts about the artists he recognized.

“Did you know that Rembrandt made a new self-portrait every year from the start of his career until his death?”

“You can tell that painting is Mannerist because it looks weird and Mannerism was like a rejection of all the things the Renaissance had brought.”

“Those still-life’s are probably seventeenth century Dutch because that’s what was popular in the area at the time.”

Most of what Lance said went over Shiro’s head, who was out of place when discussing European art, but he enjoyed listening the things Lance babbled about.

When they finally made it through the European art collection, they made their way back downstairs and to the café for lunch. Shiro could feel exhaustion creeping up on him; a person could only look at so much art in one day, and he and Lance had looked at a lot already. Looking at Lance, Shiro could tell from the drooping of his eyelids that he felt the same.

“Hey Lance? Would you be upset if we ended the date short?” Shiro asked. Lance ‘s eyes widened and he looked a little unsure. “All of a sudden I’m exhausted. Maybe we could come back next week?”

Lance looked relieved. “I’d be fine with that, under two conditions.”

Shiro raised his eyebrow, waiting for Lance to continue.

“One, you have to promise to not use cheesy art pickup lines on me next week.”

“Can’t promise that, but I can promise to use _different_ ones if I do,” Shiro interrupted. Lance smiled and shook his head.

“Fine. Two, we don’t end the date here, but instead you come over and go through the pictures I took with me?”

“Deal,” Shiro agreed.

They quickly finished up lunch, and then slowly made their way out of the museum, taking the time to look at the art they passed, but not in depth. After all, they’d be back in a week. Shiro couldn’t wait, but in the meantime, he had more important things to do.

When they finally left the museum, and found Shiro’s car, Shiro did what he had been waiting all day to do; he pinned Lance against the side of his car and leaned in close.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his lips mere centimeters from Lance’s.

Lance took the initiative and surged forward, pressing his lips to Shiro’s. Shiro practically groaned at the contact, and felt Lance’s smile against his own. In retaliation, Shiro flicked his tongue out to tap against Lance’s lips. Lance gasped, and Shiro took that as a hint to continue teasing his lip. His hands wandered down and found their way to the bare skin of Lance’s thighs. The skin was so smooth and soft, Shiro’s eyes nearly rolled back into his skull. Lance hitched his right leg up to curl around Shiro’s waist, and Shiro took that as his cue to pull his face away from Lance’s.

Lance groaned in disappointment, but allowed him to leave.

Shiro took in Lance’s flushed skin and already swelling lips and swallowed. “Lance, we’ve got to leave. I don’t know about you, but I’m not into exhibitionism on the first date.”

Lance grinned, “How about the fourth date? If that good enough?”

Shiro laughed, leaning in to touch his forehead to Lance’s. “Are you promising another three dates?”

“Hopefully I’m promising way more than that.”

**Author's Note:**

> All images are courtesy of the Art Institute of Chicago, and yes that is where they went on their first date.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [shir-oh-no](https://shir-oh-no.tumblr.com/), and if you're as into Lance in thigh highs as I am, you can find my side blog [here](https://thigh-high-lance.tumblr.com/)


End file.
